When the world is too much with me, when tired and sick I slip its clamor and trod unmasked along solitary beaches slick with salt and starlight, the ocean plays our song. Behind my lids we are reborn. Dance with me, you say. I slip grateful hands in yours, healed.
Find best mate. Build lifeboat. Together. *****
They forgot to study for exams. *****
Silenced. Wrote. Can’t shut up now. *****
Behind three-starred glass, we swirl pinot while my shade approaches the crowded intersection. Mousy hair, thin-soled Keds. A backpack, frayed, beats an awkward tempo as she scans facades and faces. Awaits the signal forward. On green, she crosses to me. Presses palms to mine, reflected. I want to rush into the twilight. To console her. …
Fifty words, she says. A happy memory from your youth. Hnuh. Too many times I’ve mined that barren childscape. Too long I’ve blamed myself. Instead, memory journeys with my long-gone teenage self to the fount of all my joy. To the only word of fifty I have ever loved. You. *****
Save the children. Save the world. Start with one child. That child. The invisible one. Or the loud one. The awkward one. The one whose smirk and sneer builds walls. The one whose smile bends like a question at your Good Morning. That one. And then that one. Give them a book. Give them a …
The boy saw the man who broke the wishbone and destroyed the universe, but because he was little no one asked the boy anything.
Once, my brother ate an onion whole. I was six, he seven, and partners in harmless crime. Cowpoke hats and cap gun pops our soundtrack. Dared by neighbor boys, a burly sullen group whom he admired, he chewed and heaved, tears raining, while I stood guard. Too late I learned people are onions. Sweet and …
I’m excited to share that my flash fiction “Meanwhile Dragonflies are Dive Bombing My Deck” is featured online at Across the Margin. I’d love to hear from you! Check it out here and drop your comments below. Happy reading!!! *****
My Name was Supposed to be Elizabeth Ann 